Couch Comfort
by sagebrooks
Summary: God, some days she wanted to kill him, but other days she just wanted to take him into her arms and hold him, and promise everything would be okay, even though it wouldn't be. Lisbon comforts Jane during a particularly rough time. Jisbon friendship.


So I'm suffering from a severe Jane/Lisbon bug and I just had to get my feelings out. I hope you all enjoyed my last story, and please let me know if I've been getting it right and should continue! I hope I'm not too OOC in here, my goal is to be realistic with Jane and Lisbon but their characters are so complicated. Please drop a review with feedback, and ideas for new stories are definitely appreciated! Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Bruno Heller gets it right, he doesn't need me.

* * *

It had been another failure. Another investigation, another dead end. Red John had killed again and taunted and teased Patrick Jane and the rest of the CBI team throughout the whole investigation, and once again, it was left unsolved. Once again, Patrick Jane was second best. And once again, he had escaped to his couch and hadn't moved in four days, frustrated and defeated.

Teresa Lisbon was working late one night, as she often did, and was alone in the office. Well, except for sleeping Jane, but he wasn't a lot of company. As the clock struck eleven, Lisbon looked up from her desk to see Jane shifting on the couch, turning his face toward her office. She could see the look of grief and exhaustion on his face and could tell he hadn't really been sleeping in the last four days. Typical. With a sigh, Lisbon dropped her paperwork and walked to the couch, standing directly in front of Jane.

After a few moments of her staring at him, hands on her hips, and him avoiding her gaze, he gave a heavy sigh and moved his legs to the floor, sitting straight up on the couch, making room for Lisbon to sit down. She gave herself a good four or five inches from him when she sat.

"You trying to steal my couch, Lisbon?" Jane asked tiredly, his hair ruffled and his suit wrinkled.

"Must be nice to lay here all day instead of that uncomfortable office chair, huh?" Lisbon retorted, neither making eye contact.

He smirked. "Not when all I hear all day every day is your loud voice telling me to get up and help you." Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him and Jane shot a grin in her direction.

Jane was silent for a minute before he said, "You don't know how to, do you?"

"What?" Lisbon asked, confused.

"You came here to comfort me, that much is obvious. But you don't know how. You're afraid to reach out, because you're afraid of what I'll think or what I'll do. You haven't done it very much in your life, except your baby brother once in awhile, and you don't think you're good at it," Jane said, all while staring straight ahead.

Lisbon sighed, deciding to avoid how well Jane had actually read her thoughts. She had grown used to it, him and his know-it-all attitude.

"You'll catch him, Jane, I know you will. _We'll_ catch him," she offered, reaching out her hand and patting him on the leg. "Red John is human, just like everybody else. He'll make a mistake, and I know you'll spot it first."

Jane smiled a fake and unbelieving smile, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're sweet, Lisbon. But all I am is a game to him, he doesn't even take me seriously. If I haven't found a mistake yet I don't see how it'll happen. Obviously he has me all figured out."

"So your solution is to lay on the couch for four straight days and drown in your miserable thoughts?" Lisbon responded.

Jane turned his head and made eye contact with Lisbon. "No, dear. My solution is to lay on the couch for four days and _think. _Think about how maybe one day if he comes after anyone I'm close to, anyone on this team or my distant family, how I'd like to kill him. My solution is also to think about you."

"Me?" Lisbon knew she blushed. Damn it.

Patrick Jane gave her a small smirk. "Yes. I think about my next prank and how you'd yell at me, how your temples will pound and how red your face will get. And then I think of how, in the end, when I catch the killer, you forgive me, even if you don't realize it, every single time."

"What are you trying to say, Jane?" Lisbon asked, her brow furrowing at the way he thought of her.

Jane turned his eyes to hers again. "You're all I have, Lisbon," he whispered. "You and your angry little self, it's all I can really rely on, day in and day out. Even with Red John."

Lisbon gave Jane a touched smile. "Glad to hear I'm the source of your joy, even if you are a pain in the ass," she said.

Jane smiled. "Yet you still come to work every single day and put up with me. That means a lot, Lisbon."

Lisbon looked away. "It's not like much else is more entertaining than working with none other than Patrick Jane. You'll catch him, Jane, you will. But not when you barely sleep ten hours a year. Go to sleep, I have to finish this paperwork." Lisbon made a move to leave the couch, but Jane's hand pulled her arm back down. She looked at him, puzzled.

"You won't catch him on ten hours a year either, Lisbon. And I kind of need you. That paperwork can wait." With that, Jane shifted his body and laid his head on Lisbon's legs. She immediately tensed.

"Why so tense? This couch is the most comfortable in all of California. Sleep, Lisbon." And Jane lay with his arms crossed, his head facing the ceiling.

Lisbon was a bit uncomfortable with her consultant's head in her lap, but the couch was comfortable, and Jane was right, she did need sleep.

"We'll work on Red John cases tomorrow, okay?" she whispered, and Jane grunted, closing his eyes. After a few minutes of silence, he opened his eyes.

"I mean it," he said. "You're all I have." Lisbon thought he never saw his eyes filled with so much trust and warmth.

She didn't think about what she did next, she just did it. Because Jane was right, she did want to comfort him. So she reached out her hands and ran them through his golden curls. Jane turned his head so it was facing her body and she cradled his face against her, running her hands through his hair. She stroked it gently, enjoying the feel of his waves on her skin as she massaged his scalp. Lisbon touched his cheek with her hand and held him closer to her. Jane's eyes were still open, and he looked up at Lisbon with gratitude.

When people looked into Patrick Jane's eyes, most saw a smart, sarcastic, rude, playful know-it-all who enjoyed humiliating people. Some saw charm and deception that helped him to work his way to the top. But when Teresa Lisbon looked into the sea blue eyes of Patrick Jane, she saw a broken, scarred, exhausted, and tortured man, who had been stripped of himself and his life. He had been robbed by a man who taunted him every day. The one time he was ever at peace was when he was sleeping and dreams didn't plague him. He couldn't hide himself from her.

"You should have comforted me years ago," Jane said tiredly, fading fast. Lisbon smiled slightly and stroked his head again, holding his head close to her body. "I knew you were good at it," he mumbled. Jane sighed, and finally closed his eyes.

God, some days she wanted to kill him, but other days she just wanted to take him into her arms and hold him, and promise everything would be okay, even though it wouldn't be. And now she was. Lisbon skated her fingers through his hair again, holding his face securely and gently against her body. She framed his face with her hands, and traced a line from his forehead to his chin as Jane fell asleep, for the first time in days.

"We will, Jane," she whispered, wrapping her fingers around one of his wavy curls. "Because I'll help you."

And with that, the senior agent fell asleep for the first time on the couch of Patrick Jane, pain in the ass consultant.

* * *

Again, let me know your thoughts, any and all feedback is appreciated!


End file.
